


Blatant Trapdoor

by surroundedxhounded



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorders, Gore, M/M, Mild Gore, Smut, Triggers, joshler - Freeform, twenty one pilots - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-31 08:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19421830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surroundedxhounded/pseuds/surroundedxhounded
Summary: Tyler Joseph has an eating disorder.Imported from my wattpad, surroundedxhoundedWords:17,703Completed





	1. Mask

**Author's Note:**

> Edited a little bit because I wrote it a while ago. This story may trigger you if you have or have suffered with an eating disorder. This story is my vent and lines up with my experiences.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He throws on a mask that will alter his face.

**Tyler**

The mirror. I hate it. Staring at myself, hating myself; it never ends. I can't pull my eyes away from my shirtless torso, twitching fingers running over ribs that are barely poking out. My collarbones, though, are prominent. My fingers grab skin, fat, poking and prodding at myself. I shake my head in an attempt to pull myself away from my reflection.

I turn around and sigh. The shirt hanging over the door was taunting me. I picked it up and put it on; I felt suffocated by it, even though it fell loosely over my slim frame. I didn't feel slim. It didn't feel loose. The scale was whispering things to me, staring at me, telling my fat ass to jump on it and cry that I haven't lost, that I'd probably gained. I bit my lip and walked out of the bathroom, deciding to not torture myself more than I need to. The pull of the scale clung onto my skin, but I retracted. This was a win, I told myself.

My phone was on my bed where I'd left it to get ready for class. It was lighting up from texts from my best friend, Josh. He was on his way. We didn't have any classes together, but we went to the same community college after becoming friends during the summer after graduation through mutual friends. I didn't get into my top pick University, and I got fired from my job. Josh was there to give me support even after I pushed all my other friends away. He stayed.

Things I can't control. My fingers traced my bony wrists as I picked up my bag and walked to the kitchen, where my mother was pouring me cereal.

She knew I didn't eat, or as much as she'd like to. My limit today was 400. A number I made up, it changes everyday. It's always below 1,000. Over that, and I panic. I shake so much that I vomit. I cry, I've even driven hours away because of the anxiety and rage that fills me. I can't control it.

"Hi hun," she smiles softly, eyes gazing my frame. Her face was sad, she looked tired, and I know it's probably all my fault. She set the bowl on the table. I knew I had to sit down, pick up the spoon, and shove something in my mouth. My fat, greedy mouth. I was panicking. I smiled at her, trying to hide my dismay. I sat the bag down on the chair next to me, eyes never leaving the bowl. If I were to eat cereal, it was dry. Milk adds unnecessary calories. I had a mental calculator, so I could see how much I could eat until I knew I couldn't have any more. God knows I don't need it.

I picked the spoon up hesitantly, the cold metal intimidating me. The reflection in the silver was whispering things to me like Satan on my shoulder. I could feel my mom's eyes on me. I wanted to make her happy, even if I had a breakdown when I walked out the door. I dipped the spoon in, grabbing a few bits of cereal. I took a deep breath as I lead it to my mouth. I took the bite, chewing 25 times. It was my thing; It gave me control. My stomach growled as my taste buds took in the flavor. I skipped dinner last night. I would move my food around and talk about my day, cutting things with the knife, moving it around with my fork. I would talk so much and so fast, that it made it look like I was eating. At least I'd hoped; no one said a thing when I claimed I was tired and had to do some homework and tuck in for the night. I would either throw it in the trash or give the rest to my little brother, Jay, who would eat anything. It worked; or so I'd hoped.

My phone buzzed. I immediately dropped the spoon in the bowl as Josh texted me that he was in front of my house.

"Josh is here! Gotta go!" I slurred, throwing my backpack on and practically throwing the bowl in the sink, making sure the remains fell down the drain. My mom could barely tell me goodbye as I sprinted out the door.

Josh was in his black sedan, music blaring, as per usual. I smiled at him as I ran up, making sure my heart rate was enough to burn the calories I just consumed, and walking to my class would burn more as long as I took the long way. I opened the door and slammed it as he turned he music down.

"Hey man." His curly brown locks fell in his face as he looked at me, giving me a tired half-smile. I smiled back, taking his phone and turning on our 'going to school' playlist. It was mainly old Panic at the Disco and Green Day, but it made our day start slightly better singing along and nearly running red lights; plus, you couldn't hear my stomach grumbling. We got to school as he parked his car in the student lot. We walked the same way to the same building, but my class started 10 minutes after his, so it gave me time to walk him to class first and then wander around campus until returning back to the building. As we walked, our hands grazed. It made my heart skip a beat and I looked at him, but he was staring at his phone and didn't seem to notice.

Josh found out about my eating disorder last semester. We went out to go get pizza after seeing a movie. I didn't touch his popcorn even though he offered it up many times. He heard my stomach grumble, and suggested we go get a slice. I thought one slice wouldn't hurt, my brain going back and forth between, 'you can't gain from one slice of pizza after not eating all day' to 'you fat disgusting pig, you don't deserve to eat'. I spent my nights doing jumping jacks and push-ups and sit-ups, so I could burn it off and then some. As soon as the food touched my lips, I had a panic attack. The weight of my chest almost took me to the ground and I had to go outside for air. I hid around the building in an alleyway, hiding my face in trembling hands trying to choke back tears. Josh was calling for me, and eventually found me; a shaking mess, distraught and shattered. He didn't know what to do, so I told him about my issue. Since then, he supported me, gave me a shoulder to cry on, but that's all I was to him. I felt like he felt weird around me. It was hard going out to eat with someone like me, and he would have to make excuses with our other friends as to why we weren't hungry. We ate in solitude together. Some days, better than others, we'd be able to go in public and ate happily. I was a burden to him, but he stuck around. Eventually we just started spending all of our time together.

And I liked Josh. But, I had to like myself too to grow closer to him. If you never eat, you never grow.


	2. Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody knows his real name, but now he just uses one he saw on a grave.
> 
> Tyler lies.

I waved Josh off to his class as I sped down the hall, stopping by the vending machine and grab a Coke Zero. I preferred Diet Coke, but they didn't carry it, and it was the same drink but different flavor. No calories, a lot of caffeine. Keeping my heart rate up. Burning calories. Burning fat. My head felt a little light and fuzzy, but the cold carbonated drink hit my throat and I could continue on with my day.

The campus was pretty quiet today but it was sunny out and the birds were chirping. The air was crisp, late winter. The wind made my lips chapped, but I was okay with it. I was content with looking as skeletal and deceased as possible. I checked the time. 6 more minutes. I continued walking around until I felt it was an appropriate time to reach my class before being counted late.

Walking in, it was nearly full, and everyone had taken their seats. I felt eyes on me, piercing my skin, making me want the Earth to swallow me whole. I grabbed a seat in the back. It was a small classroom, about 25 students. I didn't talk to anyone, or want to, or try to. I stayed in my lane, took notes, and paid attention. After this class, I had another one in 30 minutes. Josh and I will meet up in the hall, him waiting for me since his class gets out 10 minutes earlier. Then we'll sit on a bench and talk, or listen to music, until my class starts. He had an hour break, but I can't account for what he does in that time. It was Tuesday, and I only had 2 classes today. Monday and Wednesday's were different, and my longest days. I was trying to get enough credits to apply to the University I had originally wanted, and to do that I needed a lot of credit hours. Studying and getting good grades helped take my mind off of food or my body image; self-loathing constantly taking up the majority of my brain.

I walked out the door and Josh was standing there greeting me with a smile.

"It's New Music Tuesday!" He chuckled, putting a hand on my shoulder and leading me towards the door to go outside. He lead me to our bench, pulling out his headphones before looking me in the eyes. He scowled.

"Have you eaten today, Ty?" He asked worrisome. He never tried to push me to eat, or make me feel bad for it. He tried to encourage me to eat what I could, and that's all I asked for in a friend. I nodded. "What did you eat?" His eyes were prowling into my skin, brown pools of curiosity and just plain empathy. He was a good guy, but I didn't deserve this.

"Cereal." I lied. I took half a spoonful, nearly cried and threw the rest away. But he didn't need to know that.

"That's good." He cleared his throat as he shoved an earbud in my ear. Imagine Dragons started playing, their new album that had just come out. I hadn't had a chance to listen yet.

After my last class of the day, I checked my FitBit to see how many calories I'd burned. It wasn't entirely accurate, and I knew that, but I checked it religiously and followed it to a T. Josh walked up to me after his last class, and motioned for us to go, car keys twirling on his finger. We walked in silence. That was okay.

We got in the car, starting it and turning the heat immediately on. Somehow it got colder, but I didn't mind. It was a reminder to me that the colder I was, the more I was losing.

"Want to go eat?" Josh asked, his words sounded sad, almost worried, as if he'd offended or hurt me in some way. He leaned to the side as if he was waiting for me to hit him, a sort of grimace-smile hybrid on his face. I just nodded. I wouldn't order anything anyway.

We pulled up to Taco Bell. The numbers on the menu were too big. Calories. I couldn't afford it. He said his order, then looked at me. I shook my head.

"My moms cooking tonight," I lied again. Josh knew that though. He sighed and completed his order.

My stomach grumbled as he munched on his food. I tried not to stare, or to judge. I didn't want to judge, but my head couldn't help but shout at me for not telling him how many calories are in his crunchwrap supreme. But he didn't have my issues, and probably wouldn't care. He was so lucky.

He noticed me staring and squeezed my thigh in support. My heart skipped a beat once again.

"It's okay." He whispered. He wrapped up the rest of his food and put it back in the bag. He did this when he knew I was anxious about what he was eating. It made me feel bad, and I didn't want my disorder to affect him or change him, but he did it out of support.

"You can keep eating," I scoffed, almost offended. He shook his head and turned on the car.

"It's okay." He repeated, giving me a warm, genuine smile. "Want to hang out today?" If it meant keeping away from my mom's constant nagging about me eating, then of course. I nodded.

I didn't feel okay today. I wasn't sad, but wasn't happy either. Just kind of numb. I think Josh was trying to cheer me up.

We pulled up to his house, where his whole family seemed to be home. He had 2 sisters and a brother. I said my hello's, or tried to, because Josh avoided his family like me. He rushed me down the stairs into the basement, where his room was. We both threw our backpacks in the corner. His mom followed us, knocking on the side of the wall.

"Hungry?" I stood in panic. I looked at Josh, who looked at me. I gave him that look of, 'oh God, help me'. His eyes averted back his mom. "Nah, we just ate." I sighed in relief. His mom retreated back up the stairs, and he retreated to his drum kit. He was pretty talented, and we even tried playing together, but I was always busy with school or my thoughts. He started practicing and I listened, wishing I had that kind of skill.

I decided I could take this opportunity to do some homework, study for an upcoming test. I chucked my phone on his bed, and started towards my bag.

My feet felt numb, legs going static. All of my blood felt like it rushed to my head. I tried to shake it off like I normally do, but as I took another step, gravity sent me tumbling down. The air left my lungs as I fell onto the ground. I couldn't open my eyes or mouth, ringing in my ears becoming to loud to bear.

"Tyler!" I heard faintly, drumsticks flying God knows where. They clanked against the cement wall. I groaned as he tried to sit me up, but every time I tried to open my eyes, I saw stars, and my body refused to keep them open for more than a couple of seconds.

"Please," I let out a huff, resting my head on his chest as he tried to keep me upright. "don't tell your mom." I finished, mumbling, pleading to God I would feel better in a second. He picked me up carefully.

"Ty, you weigh like 80 pounds." He said as he carried me to his bed. He was so swift about it, but I knew I wasn't that light.

"123." I retorted. I meant to keep it in my head but I guess I accidentally let it slip out.

"Ty." He whispered almost disapprovingly. Josh set me down, pulling the covers over me. I tried to open my eyes again, stars fading and shapes and colors coming back to me, my head shaking the cold and fuzzy. "I'll be right back." He said as he brushed his fingers over my chest. His touched burned imprints in me, sending a shiver down my spine. He left the room, only to come back with a water and some crackers.

"Please eat these. At least 3. Give me just 3." He pulled some out, setting the water on his bedside table.

I stared at the crackers. 42 calories a cracker. 42 times 3 is 126. That was a little too high for this time of day. I took one out of his hand. 42 calories is fine. 84 is pushing it. 126 is absolutely, unconditionally, not okay. I nibbled on the Saltine, his face only giving me a look of worry. I wanted to make him happy.

I ate one more.


	3. Petrified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Him in bed, late at night, he's petrified
> 
> Tyler breaks down. Major trigger warning.

Josh stood over me, watching my every move as I nibbled the second cracker. Halfway through, I shakily reached for the water, soon finding it in my hands. I put the cool glass on my lips, condensation misting my fingertips. One big gulp turned into many, and I finished the glass. I was full. I put the rest of the cracker down on the side table along with the glass. Josh huffed.

"Ty, please." He pleaded. I just shook my head. Can't give in.

"I'm fine now, trust me," I gave him big doe eyes, hoping to convince him enough to not make me eat a last cracker. One and a half. 63. It'll be okay. "I have to do homework. And so do you, I'm sure." I half-smiled. Distraction. He simply nodded, lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed. I was beginning to think he just saw through me. He shifted in his steps, striding over to where our bags had been tossed. I begin to work on History homework.

It was nearing past dinnertime, I had finished a weeks worth of homework, and decided it was time to leave Josh. He walked me upstairs, hand on the small of my back. I like to think it was because he was giving me cute gestures, but it was just because he was afraid I'd faint again. I'm glad he was there. He grabbed his keys, but I insisted furiously that I walk. It wasn't too far, maybe 15 minutes. I could survive 15 minutes. Burn off 63 calories easy. I always made sure my net intake was below 100. I was doing really good today.

"Tyler," he always said my name when he was disappointed in me, I've noticed. He lowed his voice to a whisper, leaning closer, "you just fainted. No way am I letting you walk." He said sternly, like a mother in a grocery store when you were about to get your ass whooped when you got home. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"I'm fine." I spat back at him. I really felt fine, and I wanted an excuse to burn off calories before my mom demanded I eat whatever she cooked. The thought made my heart thump in my head. I felt irritated, a heat burning through my veins that put me in fight or flight mode. He wasn't my therapist or a doctor, he couldn't make decisions for me. Before he could react, I stormed out the door, pace quickening because knowing Josh, he would follow me. I heard the door slam behind me.

"Ty!" He yelled out, and I started running. I don't know why. I panicked, growing anxious, my body feeling heavy at even the thought of consuming food. I turned the corner, another corner, and another, before realizing I was halfway home. I was dizzy. It didn't matter. Josh wasn't following me anymore.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. _Please just get home safe. Call me if you need me. Please._ It read from Josh. I rolled my eyes. The burning had settled, the piercing cold numbing any feeling I had. I'd pushed everyone else away when this disorder began, unless they left me first. Food consumed my life. I loved food, I loved trying new things. Then, my life started feeling out of my control when I was kicked off the basketball team, my relationships were strained. I was failing classes and screwed up a scholarship. I started smoking weed to calm myself down, but along with getting high came being hungry. I gained weight. I heard comments behind my back, from my mother and my siblings. I was already kind of lanky, but not as much as I am now. They would tell me I was getting chubby, but they didn't mean in it in a bad way. I took it as a bad thing, though. I started putting things in my own control, what I ate, what I looked like. This is the worst it's ever been. I need to weigh myself when I get home.

I turned onto my street and I pulled out my phone to text Josh. _Just got home._ I assured him. I walked in to an empty house. Expecting food to be wafting through the air, arguing from my siblings, it was quiet, and quite dark instead. I turned on the kitchen light to see a note on the counter. Gone to Poppy's. Call me if you want anything from there! Poppy's was my family's favorite restaurant. I'm not surprised they didn't invite me; I started turning down going out to eat months ago and they eventually stopped trying.

My head felt light and dizzy, my chest becoming tight. I stumbled to the fridge and grabbed a Diet Coke. It helped in the moment.

Something came over me like a possession; my body not working with my brain. My stomach, in turn, growling so loud my body started moving on its own. I ripped open the pantry, cupboards, crisper drawers. Snacks and meals littered the counters, and my hand was soon shoving everything into my mouth. Candy, chips, even cheese. My body was so starved, my mind wasting away. I had no control over something that has been the only thing I could control. After a few moments, I came back to reality and saw the destruction in front of me. Empty bags, containers. I was bloated. I felt like I was going to explode. I downed the rest of my diet coke and stood in disbelief. Well over 700. Not okay. I started panicking, pinching the fat on my stomach, thighs, back. I started punching myself, in hopes to make the fat go away. Tears streamed down my face as I shook, clutching my sides. I took my phone out haphazardly, barely able to see the screen. My fingers moved, but I couldn't tell what it said. I ran to the bathroom.

I stood over the toilet, hunching and grabbing my stomach, pushing heavily in hopes to make the food escape my body quicker. My fingers finger-fucked my throat as the contents filled the bowl until only stomach-acid was shown. I flushed, rinsing my mouth out and washing my hands. I closed the toilet lid and sat with my head in my hands. Then there was a soft knock. My heart pounded as I stayed silent. What if my mom heard me?

"Ty...?" It was a male. The doorknob turned slowly, revealing the beautiful curly locked boy whom I didn't deserve. He kneeled next to me and I just flailed into his embrace, soaking his t-shirt with tears. He hushed me, rubbing my back.

I felt safe for the first time in nearly a year.


	4. Waste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take me out and finish this waste of a life

I didn't feel like waking up. Not today, not tomorrow, not any day. The day I purged... my net ended at 10. At least I'd hoped. Josh left as soon as I fell asleep, I think; I'd put him through a lot. There was vomit everywhere, in my hair, my clothes, on the floor, the walls. I didn't care. He'd put me in the shower. I was too weak; my arms felt like pins and needles, not responding to the movement my brain was trying to instruct.

If I wasn't disgusting before I definitely was now.

My eyes peeled open in the soft sunlight cascading through my window. I stared at the ceiling, in hopes that it was actually the middle of the night and I could just go back to sleep. But it was nearly 10 a.m., and sadly, I had to get up. My head turned slowly to the nightstand where my phone lived for the night. Unplugging it from the charger, I let the screen brightness burn my retinas as my heart thumped, half-expecting to see a text from Josh. There was. Josh.

_On my way._

It was two hours before he'd normally be here to get me. Heat filled my head, slightly from the lack of calorie intake, but also from embarrassment. He'd seen me in the worst state I think I'd ever been. My best friend had to see me like that. Normally, I'd deal with it myself, but it's only happened a couple times before and to be honest, never was that bad. I panicked. All I did was panic. My stomach grumbled, phone starting to shake in my hands. My weak bones. **Wimp. You can fast today. Tomorrow. The next day. You don't need food. You're just being scared.**

I heard a knock on the door downstairs, mumbled voices, then ascending footsteps. I shoved my phone under my pillow and rolled over, trying to close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. I don't know why Josh scared me so much right now. All I wanted was to act like he didn't exist in this moment. I slowed my breathing as my door creaked open. He chuckled to himself and closed my door behind him. Don't move.

"Ty?" He put his hand on my arm ever so softly, and sat down on my bed even softer. I opened my eyes; now I have to be awake. I rolled over, yawning and rubbing my eyes. Yeah, I was totally asleep until you walked in. "Morning," his warm smile glowed brighter than the sunlight through my windows. There was a lump in my throat as I tried to speak.

"Morning." I croaked. My voice was raspy, dry, and it kind of hurt. I tried clearing it, but it hurt even worse. I clenched my throat, knowing full well that wouldn't help, but at least it showed I wasn't okay.

"How are you feeling?" He put his hand through my hair, assuming to fix it. I blushed.

"I'm," I squeaked. "I need water."

"Okay. I'll be back." He removed his hand from my head and walked away. I shut my eyes. Why was he looking at me like that? Pity. He doesn't actually care about you. He'll care when you're skinny.

He came back with a glass of water, extending his arm and giving that heart-melting smile of his. I downed it, setting it on my nightstand.

"You're early," I blurted out.

"Huh, I didn't notice." He chuckled, sitting criss-cross on my bed. I sat up. He was staring at me, in my soul, it felt like. All I could do was lower my eyes. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. You really scared me last night." He nearly whispered. Did I?

"Oh." I crossed my arms, peering my gaze anywhere but him, suddenly becoming entranced by a piece of fuzz on my comforter. My stomach grumbled.

"Do you want to eat?" He put a hand on my thigh, unknowingly, it seemed. He didn't seem bothered; it occurred natural to him. But to me, I felt my stomach do a jump. What was this feeling? I didn't have enough oxygen to my brain, obviously. Maybe he knew that. I sighed and put my hands over my eyes, trying not to have a breakdown. I hated being asked if I wanted to eat. Of course I didn't. I didn't need it, nor want it... I just couldn't afford to. I figured if I lost overnight, I would eat an apple. Maybe some oatmeal if it was significant. He removed my hands from my eyes, grasping me softly. His thumb was rubbing my palm. This felt natural.

"You'll be okay. I'm here." He leaned down to catch my eyes. As soon as I was looking at him, he sent me a half-smile and got up, trying to lead me out of bed.

"Okay. Can I use the bathroom first?" He nodded.

I escaped his grasp and paraded to the bathroom, connecting in my room. Shutting the door behind me, I wielded shut my eyes. Was this real? Was Josh being affectionate just because he pitied me? Of course he is. Why else? Skinny. I jumped in front of the mirror, pulling off my shirt. 

**_fat fat fatfatfatfat fatass loseweightdonoteat._ **

My fingers caressed my collarbones once again. This was a daily routine. Making sure they were as prominent as I hoped. I stripped my pants. Fat thighs. I pulled the scale out from behind my sink, setting it on the ground, staring at it for what seemed like 3 hours before I decided to stand on. I held my breath.

**125**

I stood in disbelief. How could I have gained? 2 pounds? How was this possible? Maybe I didn't get rid of enough food last night. Maybe it was water. It carried over. 

I stepped on it carefully again, had to double-check. There was no way.

**125**

The scale doesn't lie. Tears welled in my eyes and my throat began to close. I put my hand over my mouth trying to distort my sobs as I fell against the wall and to the floor.

Fast today. No food. Nothing. Light as a feather.

_You will not eat._


	5. Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone gather around for the show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm editing the hell out of this chapter and the rest because I hate it ha

I opened the bathroom door slowly, hoping I looked okay enough for Josh. I sniffled quietly.

"Hey, hey, hey," he whispered, running up to me and grabbing my shoulders. It nearly startled me. "What happened? What's the matter?" He sounded so worried. I shouldn't be having to drag him into this. This was all me. I felt guilty. He woke up early to be here. He went home late from being here. All I was was a burden to him. He'd be glad if I were dead, I bet. I hope.

I just took a deep breath. I was exasperated instead of the sadness that encompassed my whole self about a minute ago. "Nothing." I huffed. I walked past him, making sure to hit his shoulder. I took off my shirt to grab a clean one, hoping he wasn't looking at me. He didn't need to see the fat that spilled out everywhere.

"Ty..." He mumbled. He was definitely looking at me. I felt him walk up behind me. His fingers started grazing my shoulder blades, collarbones, spine. It sent goosebumps up the back of my neck, but I wanted to hide, yell at him, tell him to go away. Gripping my shirt ever so tightly, I turned around, hot rage pouring from my eardrums. I don't know why; I knew Josh meant well. He was standing too close. I felt trapped, enclosed. His touch, although sincere, made me feel like I wanted to rip off my skin. I was too fat for him. Especially for him to even be touching me. My heart thumped in my chest. Fight or flight kicked in. Usually I choose flight involuntarily but alas, I lifted my hand. I felt like I was in slow motion.

Just then, I slapped him across the face.

Reality set back in. I blinked, and I saw my best friend nearly on the ground, clutching his cheek. My hand burned. I gasped, tears welling in my eyes. I was angry, but no way in hell did I mean to do that.

**You wanted him gone.**

_No I didn't._

**You were a burden.**

_No I wasn't._

All he did was stare at me. He looked shocked at the gall I just had. No anger. Yet, at least. A tear left my eye. I took a step towards him, but he took a step back, motioning for me to stay away. I backed into my dresser.

"I'm- I-" I stuttered. He looked at me, waiting. "I'm so sor- I- I don't know wh-"

"Shut the fuck up." Venom on his tongue. I don't blame him. I started to cower like a scared and abandoned dog. "All I did was try to fucking help you. All you had to do was tell me you were uncomfortable. I thought you wanted this?!" He was starting to yell, tears just kept forming in my eyes. Wanted what?

"I-" I wanted to tell him that I felt too fat for his touch. For him. My voice wasn't working.

"I want to help you!" He was visibly shaking. "Do you not see yourself, Ty! Look at you!" He motioned at my still topless body. No. He didn't understand. All I saw was fat. I looked as if I was on My 600-Pound Life. I shook my head.

"I'm sor-" I clutched my sides, trying to hide my fat. He was pointing it out. I'd gained 2 pounds since last night, and I knew you could see it. I broke down into tears again. My breath was hitched. I couldn't seem to make my lungs work. He walked towards me, and I clutched myself harder. Why didn't he leave? The closer he got, the more I tried to cocoon my body. I was hyperventilating.

"Tyler. Tell me what you fucking see." He was so close. His torso was nearly touching mine. He was towering over me, when usually, I'm taller than him. I didn't want to hell him the truth. "Tell. Me." It looked like he wanted to strangle me.

"Fat." I whispered, hoping he couldn't hear me. I closed my eyes to shut it out. Him, the world, the voices inside my head telling me to kill myself by starvation. I felt already dead. I was plummeting.

"Sorry. Couldn't hear you." He grabbed my face, lifting me up back up his height. He was cupping my cheeks. This didn't help the claustrophobia I was already feeling. I hope he would just get it over with, snap my neck and finish this waste of a life. His cheek was painted red, stained with tears. I still couldn't breathe.

"Fat." I said louder. He kept staring at me. "I gained 2 pounds. Do you not see it?" I was nearly yelling now. "All I am is fat! Fucking fat! Too fat to be loved by you! You're only helping me because you pity me!" I was in his face now. He looked shocked. I _felt_ shocked. I didn't mean that; in fact, I've never even really given it much thought. 

"I do not-" He started. He removed his hands from my cheeks, instead placing them on my bare shoulders. He sighed, his voice became a soft honey dripping from a honeycomb. "I do not pity you, Ty. I care about you. Genuinely." His hands ran down my fat arms, stopped at my wrists. "You are.... not fat. You're so bony. You gained 2 pounds? That's still underweight." Underweight. That word made my heart flutter. "Look at you! Your eyes lit up as soon as I said underweight! What are trying to be? Whats your goal weight?" He grabbed my hands, pulling them up to his face.

"90." I mumbled under my breath. I knew that weight would probably kill me at my height. I didn't care.

"Nine-" He dropped my hands and stepped away. "Ninety? Pounds? Are you insane?" I just shrugged. _You'll die before you get there._ He stepped forward and grasped my neck. Not in a choking way, but kind of in that, 'I need you to listen to me or else' kind of way.  
"You are perfect the way you are Tyler. You would look perfect even at 190 pounds. In fact, I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure that's a normal weight for your height." He didn't know that his words meant nothing. I knew what I knew, and that's all I cared about.

He lowered his head to catch my eyes.

"You're not too fat. You're not fat at all." His breath was shaky. Was he blushing?

"You're not too fat to be loved." He was definitely blushing. "By me."


	6. Disappears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watch as this man disappears as we know

I stood in disbelief. He took a step back, standing by to see what I would say next. I couldn't even remember what I had yelled to him. He loved me? All this is, is pity. Stockholm Syndrome at best. No one can love someone this bad off.

He was staring at me soulfully. I was still shirtless. No matter how much he just tried to de-escalate the situation, I was still disgruntled. Unhappy. Gross. I threw my shirt on over my head, finally able to breathe now that I was covered.

"No." He gripped the hem at the bottom and tugged it back over my head; I nearly slapped him again. Figured I shouldn't, though. I wanted to disappear instead.

"Please," I quietly begged. I didn't want to be shirtless anymore. Not in front of him. Not until I was at least 5 pounds lighter. "I don't want to eat today." A squeak emitted from my throat. He wouldn't like that answer, seemingly came from nowhere, but it was the truth. I scarred myself by stepping on the scale. I knew I should've left it alone.

He brought his hands up to my ribs, a shiver escaping from my spine. His hands were warm, soft, so delicate. He could break me in half if he wanted to. I secretly hoped he would. I stood frozen under his touch, not anticipating a single thing. I wanted to go back to bed until suddenly he pulled me into a hug. At that moment, the warmth from his body pushed me. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I wasn't the stone wall I used to be, my tears soaking his white shirt as he gripped me tighter. I flailed my skinny arms around his body, full and healthy. I was so jealous; why couldn't I be him? Not worrying about numbers, calories, exercise, weight. I wanted to be normal for once, was it too much to ask?

"Shh. It's okay." He stroked my hair, and we stood in silence for ten minutes.

"I'm not going to class today." I pulled away from his embrace; admitting I was not in the right headspace was the first step, right?

"Then I won't either." My heart fluttered.

"Don't you have an exam?"

"It's okay, Ty. What matters to me right now is helping you. Let's go down and eat, yeah?" Did he not hear me earlier? 125.

I'll allow myself 125 calories today, tomorrow, the next day, the day after that... Until I hit 120 pounds. Then I'll be happy. It's no 90, but it'll work. He graced my collarbones, shoulder blades, ribs. I felt a jump in my stomach. His touch heightened me for the moment.

I just nodded. He put my shirt back over my head and wiping a tear away from my cheek before leading the way downstairs.

Thankfully, my mom had gone to work and the rest of my siblings were at school. My legs felt heavy with each step, not knowing if I would collapse or not. Instinctively, I grabbed an apple. 95 calories. Too much. I cut it in half, feeling Joshua on my every move. He sat down after pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

"Tyler, no. Not today. You can eat a whole apple." I didn't listen. I nibbled the fruit, chewing 25 times with each bite. I was disappointing. My life was a disappointment.

I thought about eating only half of the half, but Josh would force the rest down my throat, and if he wasn't here, I wouldn't be eating anything. I wanted to disappear.

We sat in silence. I didn't have anything to say, and I don't think he did either. I wanted to touch on the subject that he said I wasn't too fat to be loved by him. Did he mean in general? Was he just being nice? Does he mean he doesn't love me, but that someone else would one day? He was being awfully touchy. The more I thought of it, the more I kind of wanted h-

My face felt hot as I kept thinking. I stood up to go back upstairs, leave Josh with his breakfast. Just as soon as I thought I was home free to go back to bed, I was whipped around, Josh's hand on my wrist. He encapsulated my face in his hands, lips crashing against mine. Full of passion, need. I melted instantly into him, like a warm cookie fresh out of the oven. Now I was thinking about cookies. Not hungry.

I wanted to disappear.

I kissed him back gently, standing with idle hands. He pulled away after a moment, just staring into my eyes with bewilderment.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while." He chuckled anxiously, waiting as if I would slap him again.

My eyes fluttered at him as I couldn't think of the words to say. Did I want this? I didn't think I did. I never thought of it. Had he been thinking of it this whole time? With vomit covering my bathroom walls from an episode? My silence was deafening. His face went red as he started to go back to his breakfast. I caught his arm just in time and he stood there waiting for me to make a move. Any move. I wasn't sure what to do with myself. My arms, only pins and needles again, tried pulling him back instinctively. I looked down into the yellow haired boy's eyes and held my breath.

**He only pities you. Let him go.**

I grasped the nape of his neck before collapsing into his lips. He let out a sigh of relief and felt him smile against me. My cheeks went hot as I felt fireworks inside my brain.

There were fireworks.


	7. Ignore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do me a favor and try to ignore,
> 
> There was originally smut in this chapter, but I felt it didn't progress the story as well as I wanted it to. I completely rewrote this chapter. If you'd like to read the original for some smut, go to https://www.wattpad.com/654631902-blatant-trapdoor-joshler-try-to-ignore

Dizzy.

Dizzy is all I felt as I walked back up the stairs to turn the corner to my room.

I desperately wanted to climb back in bed, encompassed by my bed sheets that cocooned my weak frame. I wanted to shake this feeling because for the past year, I've been able to regain consciousness, with a flutter of my eyelids and see clearly again. I knew when I was going to black out. Those were the times where I knew I had to lay in bed, chug a Diet coke, and fall asleep. I wondered if at any point during feeling that way, stars dancing upon my eyelids, if I went to sleep my body would stop working and I wouldn't wake up. I often dreamt of dying. I often lay there awake with my eyes closed pleading for something to come and take me. It wasn't so simple, though. I had to work for it.

I had to grasp the hand rail a little too hard this time around. I left Josh at the bottom of the stairs to make the decision for himself to either finish his cereal or come upstairs with me. My head was full of jumbled nonsense; not only was food on my mind but so was my best friend. I didn't think I'd liked him. I didn't think he'd even like me. He surely must be fucked in the head. Two negatives don't make a positive.

I left my door ajar, too weak to pull my arms up to close it, and fell into bed. Except it wasn't my bed, I had missed completely after miscalculating the inertia of my fall and the timing of closing my eyes. My body hit the floor with a thump. If I were 90 pounds, I'd barely make a sound and I could float back onto my feet and tell Josh I just bumped my knee into my dresser.

"Tyler?" Josh called up to me. I groaned in response. The carpet seemingly the most comfortable thing in the world; I didn't want to pick myself back up, the bed too high off the ground. My breaths became shallow as, in a desperate attempt, I forced my body to get up as I heard footsteps advance up the stairs. I needed a grip on something, anything, to make this easier for me. My arms reached atop my head as I knew what was coming, feeling around for the nightstand laying half-alive on the floor. My chest felt hollow and I started seeing stars. Just a little further. Not now. 

_Lay back down._

**You'll feel better if you just lay back down.**

Ana and conscience agreed for the first time in a year. But I knew that for me to stay safe, my secret, I had to use my last bit of strength to lay down on something other than the floor.

"Ty!" Josh ran up to me and put his hands under my armpits, lifting me up in one swift motion.

"I just missed the bed..." Which wasn't a lie, but it doesn't sound good. Josh set me down on the bed where I instantly relaxed, even struggling to pull the bed sheets from underneath me. It wouldn't be this difficult if I were 90 pounds.

"Did you pass out?" He helped tuck me in.

I just shook my head, not feeling the vigor to reply. I took a deep breath in, but the stars wouldn't go away. I closed my eyes to make it easier for my body to shake it.

"I jus wan sleep.." I mumbled incoherently. My stomach grumbled.

Before I could hear Josh interject, I was out like a light.

****

I awoke to the sound of a video playing, a little too loud for my taste, and the bed sunken in next to me. I groaned, fully coming to, and lifting my head. My neck shook as I attempted to look over. It was dark outside. Josh was slumped over next to me, his phone illuminating his face. He turned the video off as he sat up some more. I composed myself and tried to sit up as well. My arms wouldn't let me. I'd slept the whole day away, which meant if I slept for some more then my net intake would be around 47. I smiled to myself at the thought, being so much under my goal intake that I would for sure lose 2 pounds by morning. The weakness I felt was only a sign of success.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Josh sighed. He almost sounded relieved. Maybe he thought I was dead. I didn't feel myself slip under, so maybe I thought I was dead for a moment too. But alas, I had to keep fighting for that moment. "You up to eat?" He held his breath awaited a response. I had to pull myself together.

"No, I think I'm gonna go back to sleep." Just a few more hours.

"Tyler, you slept for like _12_ hours."

"It's almost midnight?" I sat up quickly. I applauded myself on the inside. It was almost tomorrow. He just nodded, eyes wide. He looked scared. "Wait if it's almost midnight, why are you still here?" He seemed taken aback. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings if I did. I would've expected him to be gone about 4 hours after I still wasn't awake.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't alone when you woke up." He looked down at his hands.

"What if I-" I started. I shook the thought. I couldn't bring that up to him. "If I was asleep for the rest of the night?" I murmured. He shrugged.

"Woulda stayed the night, I guess," He reached over me, laying on me ever so slightly, and switched on the lamp next to my bed living on my nightstand. "Your mom came home, was calling for you." I groaned. I wish I lived alone.

"Okay." We sat in silence for a moment too long.

A feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. The voices in my head growing louder, I needed to go to the bathroom. The scale tugged at me, a force inviolable; my feet swung over the bed and I stumbled my way over to my vice.

"Tyler," a voice called out to me. The distance was all in my head, needing to know my weight was much louder than anything in true life.

I shut the door behind me as I stood in the dark. I let out a shaky breath as I prepared myself for the worst, knowing nothing probably changed. I turned the light on to see a disgruntled skeleton in the mirror, only that skeleton was me. For the first time I finally saw myself for how I really looked. The dysphoria that I knew I had but chose not to acknowledge was away. It was waiting though. Ana was behind me, telling me to step on the scale. I pulled the scale out and waited for it to turn to zero. I stood in front of it for a moment, saying a silent prayer to any God out there for it to be low. I wanted it to be low so bad that I probably would chop off a limb to save myself the extra weight.

My soles touched the cool glass of the scale, sending a shiver up my spine. I felt like this was the end; if it stayed the same or higher my world would end. I exhaled any oxygen I had. I didn't need the extra weight. The numbers calculated. My throat started to close up as I waited. Waiting. Waiting.

Waiting.

**122.**

I gasped. I jumped off, a second wind of electricity buzzing throughout my body.

Maybe it could be lower.

I turned to the toilet, a sense of relief leaving me as I let out the pee I'd been holding since this morning.

I swung back around the scale, practically jumping on it. I exhaled again.

**120.**

I did it.


	8. Blatant Trapdoor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you watch him fall through a blatant trapdoor.

I was giddy when I woke up in the morning.

I was gleaming with glee.

I lost five entire pounds.

This motivated me. I wanted to keep on trying. I wanted to get to 110. My next goal. 

I sat up, a newfound energy buzzing through my core. Josh was still next to me. His mouth was agape, drool spilling from the confines of his lips. I smiled at the sight of how someone could be so sound, so perfectly okay. I wished I could be where he was. But alas, I was comforted by Ana and cozy in her bony embrace. I knew nothing else; I was scared of the void that greeted me on the other side of constant despair. 

Josh stirred as he felt my eyes glued to him. He was a damn pretty sight to behold. I shut my eyes and looked away. It can't be like that.

"Morning." He yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, as he rolled over towards me and perched his head on his arm.

"Morning," I repeated back to him. "Shit are we gonna be late?" I rummaged around for my phone, not noticing it on the nightstand next to me, plugged in. I unplugged it and brought the screen close to my face, anticipating it would be half past 12. It was only eight. A sigh of relief emitted from my lips and I locked my phone, only to set it back on the nightstand. I didn't have the energy to text my siblings back or check Twitter.

A smell so putrid burned my nostrils, I looked over to Josh, who's armpits were the only ones exposed. I smelled my own to make sure it wasn't me. It was.

"God," I said under my breath, immediately retracting my head as far away from my armpits as I could.

"Something not smell great?" Josh chuckled, pinching his nose for comedic effect.

"No, I smell like a field of roses. That's definitely you, dude." I sat up, feeling out of breath but determined to keep moving. 

"Jokes on you, I showered last night," My head turned to start for the bathroom as I braced my feet for impact to the floor. I smiled, reminding myself of the number on the scale. Josh's rebuttal was a distant afterthought. "Hey, I'm the one that had to smell you all night!" He shouted after me. He most certainly did not have to stay, and I would rather if he hadn't. But, I was planning on going to class today and Josh had an exam to make up. Because of me.

The bathroom was glowing, bright fluorescent lights burning my retinas. It was too much to take in. I turned off the bathroom light and turned on the closet light, which was much dimmer and much more satisfying to cleanse myself in.

I turned the dial on the shower, a sudden tinge of pain attacking my chest. I grasped my sternum as I took a slow deep breath. Not now. I started to undress, nearly losing balance as I kicked off my pajama pants. I stood in the mirror, tugging off my shirt. The skeletal boy that stood here once before last night was no longer there. I was just over 600 pounds. The fat on my stomach was nearly drooped to the floor. I ran my fingers over my thighs, over my collarbones, over my ribs. The mirror was beginning to steam. I forced myself to pull away from my reflection. I turned too fast, nearing a close call and situating myself on the toilet seat instead of crashing to the floor. I held onto the bathroom counter with one hand, another clenching a fist over my heart. It was beating entirely too hard. I took a moment to shake the stars behind my brain, blinking a couple times and steadying my breathing. I was okay.

I stood up, put one foot in the shower.

Static.

It started with my foot that touched the water, a touch too warm. My knees buckled. My body became dead weight as I tried grabbing the shower curtain; I knew I was falling. There was nothing I could do. I was entirely helpless as gravity pulled me down. My head landed first on the bathtub floor, then came my chest. I was swimming in between an unconscious state. I desperately wanted out. Out of this body, out of this feeling. My foot hung out of the bathtub as I tried to stand. I had the energy to want to pull myself up. The shower curtain, entangled in my legs, refused to let me gather myself. I was nearly to one knee when my body wanted no more part of this agony. I hit the floor again.

Distortion crumpled my senses as I thought I heard Josh call to me. Maybe it was a figment of my imagination. Maybe I was finally dying. 

Black.

Maybe I was finally falling through a blatant trapdoor.


	9. Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thinks that faith might be dead

**Josh**

I lay in Tyler's bed, much too comfortable and a little too cold without him in it. I stared at the ceiling, my mind wandering. Maybe I would be able to kiss Tyler again today. Maybe he didn't like me too, maybe he was scared. Maybe he had too much on his mind. I wish he could see what I saw. His frame frightened me; not quite dead, but getting there. He was a stubborn motherfucker, resilient but headstrong. He wouldn't listen to a word I said. I couldn't tell if what I was feeling was a fine line between pity and actual attraction. I was attracted, had been for some time now, but when he told me about his disorder I couldn't help but want to feel closer to him. I was sorry, to him and to God, that I couldn't be more help.

Deep in thought, I heard a slight thud coming from the bathroom where Tyler had just retreated to. I sat up quickly, my breathing hitched as I stayed silent to wait for a call for help, eyes glued to the door. Any noise at all would've sent me to a frenzy. A quieter thud surfaced, and I jumped to my feet and practically glided to turn the doorknob. He locked it. I knocked with my index finger knuckle twice, waiting for a silent moment as I anticipated a reply. 

"Tyler?" I spoke softly, my heart thumping in my ears like a bomb had just went off.

No response.

I could pick the lock, but that would take too long. He could be dead. I shook the thought away. I was prepared for the worst, but hoping for the best. Fuck, there was no best in the scenario. The best would be that he wasn't dead. The next best is that he was unconscious.

I silently prayed his mother had left for work. I backed up a few feet from the door. I took a running start, shoulder in front. I was breaking this shit down.

I bounced off the door like putty. Sure, my shoulder was probably broken now, but that wasn't going to stop me from trying to get inside.

I stood in disbelief, the shock from my arm radiating and pulsing in my veins. My adrenaline was too high now. I squared my hips, lifted one leg off of the ground and aimed for a couple inches above the doorknob. It was the strongest point that would-

The door flew open, the doorframe severely damaged. I wasted no more time to think about paying Mrs. Joseph for her property and ran into the bathroom only to behold a grimly sight. I stood over Tyler, eyes grazing his lifeless body. I saw no movement. I waited for a breath, my own lungs failing to inflate. There was a crimson stream flowing from beneath his hair. His spine was sticking from under his skin, shoulder blades poking out at least a mile from his back.

"Tyler..." A breathless whisper emitted from my lips. I inhaled a shaky breath, holding it as I took a step to turn the water off. His skin was red from the heat. At least he wasn't pale. That's a good sign, right?

I lifted the shower curtain from beneath him, setting it gently to the side. 

"Ty?" I leaned down, my hand shaking as I went to feel for a pulse. I grabbed his wrist, light as a feather, and situated my thumb and index finger around it on his pressure point. I instantly felt thumping. A sigh of relief escaped me as well as tears. "Oh God, Ty." I exhaled through a squeak. I stood to grab a towel from the rack, placing it over his back, beginning to dry off what I could. I grabbed him by the shoulders to flip him over. I felt as if any man-handling would break him in half. He was skin and bone. Only skeleton bones remained.

I placed an arm under his neck and another under his knees, lifting him up with the towel still under.

"Tyler, I need you to wake up." I shook him gently. I wasn't sure if the water had suffocated him; even though I felt a pulse, it didn't mean he didn't have water in his lungs. The shower had been on for a good minute until I broke the door down. I was afraid to do CPR, not only because I didn't have a single inkling of how, but because of stories you hear about people that break the person's sternum because of incompetence. All I could do was wait. The agony, seeing this sad, exhausted sight in front of me. I felt pure dread. I should've been there for him. I wrapped the towel around him for modesty. I needed to take him to the hospital. I needed to save him before he killed himself. It was between life and death, between Tyler hating me forever and him getting the life outside of depression that he deserves. I grabbed another towel, situating it beneath his head. I applied pressure to the wound that was still bleeding. It had slipped my mind, the blood, because his figure was a sore sight. Whether I did CPR wrong or not, the blood loss is what could kill him. He was hanging on by a lifeless thread anyways.

"Tyler, come on." I looked around for anything to help him wake up. Out of all the shows and movies I watched, the only way I knew how was to either slap him or put smelling salts to his nose. One I lacked, so I chose the latter.

"I apologize in advance, but I need you to come back to me." I inhaled, one hand still on the wound, another lifted in the air. I backhanded his face, and exhaled. Nothing. I slapped him again. His eyes shot open, sitting up quickly, gripping his chest as he coughed out water. I knew it.

"Fuck you, you scared the shit out of me." Was the first thing that came to mind. I helped him stay upright as he finished coughing, hanging his head between his knees.

"How long was I out?" He croaked.

"Like, maybe 10 minutes," He looked over. I followed his gaze, which was averted to the scale. "Tyler, no. You don't need that. Not now, not ever." He didn't look up. I felt a rage envelope my instincts. "Tyler, for fucks sake!" He jumped, eyes situated on mine. "Aren't you exhausted? Aren't you tired of constantly feeling this way? Don't you think for maybe one fucking second that you're literally killing yourself?" He only smirked. He never fucking listens to me.

"I do." He mumbled. He sat upright on his own, criss-crossing his legs.

"Do what?" I spat.

"I am killing myself. I'm probably under 120 right now. I was 120 last night. Why do you think I was so happy when I went to bed?" I had nothing to say. He knew what he was doing to himself and he didn't care. The fuzz on his arm tripled from a few months ago. His teeth were starting to rot. If he got under 110, his organs would probably shut down. He was already much too underweight. 

"Tyler, I need to take you to the hospital." I was stern. I didn't care anymore, he needed to hear something other than his own demons for once. His eyes grew wide, tears starting to form.

"Don't do this to me." He choked.

"I don't have a choice. _You_ don't have a choice." He shook his head, and I could tell he was breaking. "Would you rather I take you, or the state force you? Your mother can gain guardianship. You wouldn't have freedom anymore, Tyler."

"Get the fuck out." He barked. I sat stunned, unable to move. I was trying to help. I didn't want his rights taken away just because he refused to help himself. If he died, I would blame myself. It would be completely preventable. 

"Tyl-" 

"Get," He looked like he was snarling. "Out." I jumped to my feet. The anger in his voice was startling; a side of him I have never seen before. If I left, I knew I would never see him again.

"But-"

"Out!" He screeched. It scared me enough to run out of the bathroom and out of his bedroom. I slammed his door shut, standing outside. I leaned against Tyler's door, heart racing. What could he do, he had absolutely no muscle or the strength to kick my ass like he looked like he would. He would probably punch me and it would feel like the wind. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard muffled sobs. What would happen if I went back in there? I can't comfort him anymore like I used to. I wanted to be there for him. I desperately and utterly needed to be with him. No one should have to go through this alone. My heart ached for him, for the pain he was going through.  
I could've helped him sooner. Not soon enough.


	10. Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing kills a man faster than his own head.

**Tyler**

I was useless. I was helpless. Five minutes ago I was laying nearly dead on the bathroom floor; now I have enough anger and rage inside me to take down a very small village of no more than three people. I wanted to win. Josh couldn't do shit for me, to me, with me. He was bluffing when he said he would take me to the hospital. What was he going to do, tell on me? I'm not five. I collected my breath as I lifted my hand to my head, a clotted hole had appeared on my scalp. Absolutely perfect.

The towel behind me was stained red, and I realized Josh had literally picked me up out of the shower to try and get me to come back. He had patched my wound. He stayed the night, he offered me help. He tried to get me to eat three times or more a day. He-

**He's not good for you.**

_Maybe he's the one keeping me alive._

**That isn't our goal.**

I steadied myself to my knees, grasping the counter for leverage. I needed to go to class today. Even if I was wasting away, I still wanted good grades. I heard the front open and close rather forcefully, and I sighed. That was the last time I'll probably speak to Josh again. Whether it was on his end, or mutual, I secretly hoped he would come back later. He enjoys showing up unannounced; problems at home lead him to me. My heart ached in fear; I hope I'm not my only friend.

I trudged to my bed, completely dismissing my broken door frame. He did that for me.

I had an hour before I had to be at school. I forcefully brought myself to my dresser, picking out my clothes and struggling to put it on my body. My pants fit a little looser. Maybe I lost another pound or two. I felt slothful, exhausted, and most of all weak. I took a step back from my dresser, my body was trying to tell me the severity of my situation. Not only had I blacked out, but I hit my head and probably had a concussion. I felt peachy.

Putting on my shoes was the hard part. Shaky hands met sloppy tying of the shoelaces, so I double knotted in case I had to re-tie them. I took each step down the stairs carefully, steadying my breathing and praying I don't get stars again.

The silence in my house was tumultuous. The creaking of the wind against shutters was the only thing keeping me from putting my hands over my ears and shouting for it all to stop. The dish on the counter in my kitchen held my car keys, which I rarely used because Josh offered to drive me everywhere. I wasn't sure how entirely safe operating heavy machinery was for me at the moment, but it was the last thing on my mind as I headed out the door early, knowing I'd need a few moments to compose myself enough to walk into class like a normal human being,

My eyelids felt heavy behind the wheel, but I got to campus in one piece at least. I locked my car and breathlessly walked towards my class. Through the lot, Josh's car stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of other cars that looked just like his. My heart jumped. I wouldn't have my friend to sit with and listen to music. He wouldn't be waiting for me after class. I wouldn't be waiting for him after class. A sadness encompassed me, loneliness washing over me like a plague. At least I wouldn't have to be guilt tripped into eating.

I sat in my seat at the back of the class, confidence in my weight loss. I felt proud and didn't mind eyes on me. I strode throughout the class with my ego on a new high, focused extra hard on taking exceptional notes.

The class ended and not to my surprise, Josh was not there. I walked out the doors to find him sitting on the bench we always sit at. He had his earbuds in, staring off into the distance. He looked sad, his usual eagerness to be at college seemed bleak. I walked in the opposite direction just as his gaze turned towards me, playing it cool and pretending to not notice him at all. In reality, you could spot him from a mile away with how bright his hair was. I headed towards my next class. I wouldn't walk around too much today, knowing from the events of earlier I could plummet at any moment. I had to play it safe. No one else could get involved. I wouldn't let anyone step in my way of getting to 110, much less 90.

My breath felt shallow as I walked up to the History building. Maybe I should just go home. I finished my assignments at Josh's the other day and my professor is pretty chill. I could email hi-

No, I need to go. Sit in class for an hour, wasting away, distracted by food, distracted by Jo-

My legs did all the work of turning around out the doors and towards my car. To avoid Josh, where he'd be sitting for another 50 minutes, I had to walk around the perimeter of campus. I was too weak to find the motivation. Instead, I walked on the sidewalk in front of him completely oblivious. I'm the one that kicked him out. I should be the one to not give a shit. Therefore, I didn't.

My body fought against my legs, pins and needles creeping up from my toes to my knees. I sighed, running a hand through my hair, a sharp pain emitting from where I once bled. Josh was right, it was getting pretty fucking old. I scanned the pathway for the nearest seat, hoping I would make it there. I shook my head as the stars passed. I stood in the middle of the sidewalk, rubbing my hands over my eyes, inhaling the winter air. The wind pricked at my lungs, but it reminded me I'm alive. I'm alive long enough to get to my damn car.

I counted my steps, trying to focus on something other than the dizziness that was taking over. I couldn't afford another fall. I knew Josh could still see me, I knew he'd been watching me ever since I passed him. I felt his gaze burn into my back as I stopped to compose myself. He doesn't fucking matter. Why did I care.

Relief washed like a wave over me as my car came into sight, only a few cars away. I fumbled with my keys to unlock it. I shivered as I slid inside the door with ease. I just needed a nap. I gave myself a silent pat on the back for going to at least one class, though, given the circumstances. I bet Josh was surprised to see me. I don't think he thought I had it in me to come to school. He saw me as a small delicate tulip, that would get crushed in one swift motion. He was wrong. Josh was always wrong.

I tumbled inside my house to find my little brother, Jay, sitting at the kitchen counter on his phone. He was shoveling food into his mouth. It reminded me to stay strong, to resist any urge I felt. My stomach grumbled at the sight.

"Hey wait, what are you doing home?" I asked, leaning against the wall. He jumped, eyes wide in fear. He should be in school. Then again, so should I.

"Uh, I- well, I-" He stuttered.

"Bah. I don't really give a shit right now." I huffed, waving him off so I could go upstairs and back to bed.

Step after step, I ascended easier than I gave myself credit for. I instantly needed to know my weight. The obsession fuming within me, knowing that I could have possibly broke 120. I was finally in control.

The broken bathroom door greeted me with pain. It would probably be pretty easy to hide from my mom, the door was still on it's hinge but the lock was probably shit outta luck. No more privacy, I guess.

The scale was where I'd left it last night. I was quick in stripping my clothes, making sure to pee before I was hit with anticipation of the numbers.

I stepped on.

**118.**

Pride.


	11. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He used to see dreams at night

At this rate, I would be skinny.

At this rate, I would be a skeleton.

At this rate, I would be bones.

The email I sent to my professor when I got home was responded with a _Take care of yourself. See you in class next week._ Thank you Professor Hernandez, I am taking care of myself. The joy I felt when I stepped off the scale erupted out of me. Loud yes's and hell yeah's escaped from my vocal chords, involuntary jumping about. I wanted to give myself at least 50 calories today.

**You're not a dog.**

**Don't reward yourself with a treat.**

_It's only a bite of banana._

**Pretty boys don't eat anything at all.**

I hung my head in my hands. The voices were too loud. I wanted to be pretty. Ana didn't think I was pretty yet. I sat down at my desk, reached into my backpack and grabbed a couple of assignments I had due in the class I did go to today. If I focus hard enough, I could be done by dinner time, and eat a small bit of whatever my mom decided to make. The thought of sitting down at the table and being watched closely by my entire family sent anxiety into the pit of my stomach. I suddenly felt nauseous, but I've done it before, many times, and it was easy. I just wasn't sure that if at any point in time they would notice I wasn't actually shoving food down my throat. I wondered if Jay had seen me, my frame, and was as scared as Josh was when he saw me shirtless. I wear baggy clothes so I don't concern anyone. No one can know what's under clothes; It's under my skin that matters. Underneath we're all the same and I'm not dead yet. What's there to worry about, then? 

****

Hours had passed and I was nearly finished with my final assignment. For the past half-hour I had noticed ruckus coming from downstairs, my siblings yelling at each and my mom telling them to be quiet, for my brother to be nice to my sister. I anticipated a call from my mother for quite sometime. A pleasant aroma drafted under my nose, stomach grumbling, and I knew that dinner would be ready soon. I wanted to weigh myself and see, but I knew the Diet Coke I had chugged earlier would stay and make the numbers go up. Tomorrow morning.

"Tyler! Dinner!" The roaring yell of my mother, obviously annoyed, made me jump to my feet. Downstairs, the whole family was sitting around the table, heaping servings laid out in front of them. My sister gleamed at me as she took a mouthful.

"Could I take this upstairs? I have work to do..." I trailed off, silently praying, hoping my mom would say yes. The pit in my stomach grew as I waited much too long for an answer.

"Tyler, I've barely seen you at all. Sit down with the family and take a break for once." My face grew hot as I felt eyes on me, waiting for me to take a seat.

I pulled out the chair and sat down slowly. My body craved what was set in front of me, my stomach was shrinking by the second. I downed the glass of water, hopefully that would keep me full instead. My stomach still grumbled.

"Tyler, would you like to say Grace?" My mother asked as she took her place at the table, looking at me expectantly. I stared at her with wide eyes. I hadn't said Grace in ages, and for some reason it scared me. Maybe because I haven't prayed to any God since my issue developed. I was destined for misery anyway, what's the point?

"I, I gue-"

"I'll say it!" My little sister Madison exclaimed. I sighed in relief and bowed my head with everyone else.

"God is good, God is great, and we thank Him for our food. By His hand we must be fed, give us Lord our daily bread. Amen." She said a little too quickly. I pursed my lips as everyone else said "Amen" together. I felt no need to participate. I was disappointing Him anyways.

Everyone continued to eat, some kind of casserole that I didn't know the contents of. I needed to know what was in everything which is why I stuck mainly to fruits and vegetables when I did eat. I picked up my fork. The calories were loud, screaming in my face. Ana was standing behind me, a dark shadowy figure I never formally invited in. Normally, I would talk fast and move my food around. No one noticed a thing. But tonight, I didn't have the energy to say more than a few words. If I kept my act up I had to be deceiving. Tonight was probably the night I was found out. I shoved my food around, not looking anywhere but my plate.

**Your mom is staring at you.**

_I don't doubt it._

**You need to leave.**

_I'm forced to stay._

**Get out.**

I'll take a bite, then go for a walk. A long walk. I'll come home and do jumping jacks, sit-ups, anything. I scooped a small bite onto my fork, and lifted it to my lips. Ana was screaming at me to put it down. I didn't quite have a choice. I opened my mouth, and let the flavor burst among my tastebuds. I chewed 25 times. The table was unusually quiet, but the moment I consumed something, I felt the tension in the air release. I looked to my mom, where she smiled gently.

"Ty, how was class? Anything interesting?" My mother seemed concerned.

"It was fine, just learned about Napoleon and stuff." I lied, I didn't go to History today and I recalled Josh talking about himself learning it the other day.

Just then an argument started between my siblings, something about Zack trying to steal a potato from Jay. Jay jumped from the table, grabbing Zack in a headlock. They were rolling around on the floor and with Maddie screaming, I took it as my opportunity to flee. I grabbed my plate, dumping the rest of the contents in the trashcan and running out the door. My mother called after me as she was trying to contain the amount of noise in the house. My head was already loud; any outside noise sent me into a panic.

I shut the door and the air hit me like a ton of bricks. It was freezing, the sun had set and I couldn't go back inside to grab a jacket.

**The more you lose, the colder you'll be. This is a good sign.**

I guess. I shoved my hands into my pockets, hoping that they wouldn't get frostbitten and fall off and started off onto the street.

I wasn't sure how many calories I'd consumed, maybe about 40, but you can never be too careful. 

With silence comes thinking. I often refused to go there, to try and get the voices to stop as much as I could. I started to wonder about Josh. Was he missing me? Did he move on to another best friend already? It hasn't even been a full day yet. My heart ached as I realize I was the one missing him. I was wondering about what could've been, if he was actually into me like that. 

I was walking for what felt like a few miles when I came to the conclusion that I was attracted to him. I stopped in my tracks. It seemed like my soul was staring at me outside of my body, I couldn't control this feeling. I longed for his touch again. Distance does make the heart grow fonder, I guess.

I realized I was on Josh's street. His house was just a couple doors down, illuminated by flood lights on the garage. I sighed. Might as well.

I knocked twice on the door. My heart fluttered in anticipation, afraid that he would turn me away, reject me, tell me to just go home. I'd been a shit friend to him. The thumping in my ears grew louder as I heard footsteps approach. The porch light turned on, a glow much too bright, and the door opened. It was Josh.

His hand ran through his hair, twisting the ends, something he only does when he's nervous about something. My fingers grasped onto my shirt, messing with the hem. 

"Hey, I, uh.." I started. My throat was dry. He was staring at me wide eyed, like he was biting his tongue. "I'm sorry... for earlier..." Josh turned around to close the door behind him and I was cut off by a grabbing at my shoulders, pulling me into his warm embrace. I wrapped my arms around him too, breathing in the scent of his cologne. It smelled nice, it was comforting, and it felt like home. 

"I know. I know." He shushed me, leaning his head on my shoulder. I wasn't crying, but he must've thought I was. I was shaking involuntarily, cold from the wind but also from fear. I was relieved he didn't hate me quite yet. He pulled away, one hand holding my back and another cupping my cheek. I closed my eyes and rested against his palm. He pulled me closer, face leaning into mine. I didn't hesitate to plant a small kiss on his lips. We pulled away, him doe-eyed as he looked up at me. He was grinning, and I wondered if his heart was beating this fast too. Before I could react any longer, he crashed his mouth on mine, deepening the kiss and letting out a sigh of relief. For a moment, I wasn't thinking about calories, about weight.

"My parents are gone..." He whispered into my mouth, afraid to break away. I chuckled. There was no way.

Josh grabbed my hand, opening the door to a quiet house, the opposite of mine. He lead me downstairs and locked his door. 

There was no way.


	12. Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now he just watches the backs of his eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some smut yeet

Josh stared at me longingly, back against the door. I stood idly, waiting for him to make a move. I was frozen, anxiety piling high. Did I sit on the bed? Did I keep standing here? He seemed nervous as well. I wasn't sure where he was going with this. But stomach did a flip-flop as I thought of what was to happen.

He took a couple of steps towards me, but I didn't move an inch. He reached out to put his hands behind my neck and planted a kiss on my lips. I tangled my hands in his sunflowery hair, tugging ever so softly as I tried to move in time with him. He slowly started backing me up, hoping gravity was on my side this time. The backs of my legs hit his bed where I tumbled over, hitting the soft cotton sheets which were unraveling underneath me. I smirked as he crawled onto me and I leaned back, resting my bodyweight onto my palms. I could tell he was unknowingly biting his lip; his eyes filled with a deep fiery passion I'd never seen in this man before. I whined as he sat himself on my lap, grinding to move the rest of his body closer to mine, chests touching, his nose tenderly caressing my own. What was once gentle turned lustful, my body subdued beneath him and enjoying every second.

**He's sitting on you because you would crush him.**

I tightened my eyelids closed, trying to shake the thought away. Here I was being touched, being loved, by something other than Ana herself. I didn't mind that his fingers were tracing my bones. Because I knew they were bones. Not fat. I felt skinny below his touch, warmth replacing the icicles dangling from my brain. I inhaled him. My lungs ached for more, he filled me up more than food ever could. The hunger pangs dissipated.

Josh bit my lip; it hurt, but I craved that kind of pain. I moaned under my breath, the noise escaping my lips and into his. I felt him smirk as he pushed me, my back hitting the bed. I wrapped my arms around him, fingernails digging into the back of his shirt. I wanted to see what lie beneath. I think he deserved to see what lie beneath me, too. I tugged the fabric up far enough to be able to touch bare skin. He was warm, which felt like a fireplace in a cold living room. He broke away from my lips and I whimpered, knowing that to get underneath clothes we'd have to separate. 

"You're so needy," he teased, pulling the shirt over his head, messying his locks. I lifted my hands to his torso, feeling every crevice and detail in his skin. He shivered and leaned back down.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize I needed you sooner," I moaned.

"S'okay, we're here now and that's what matters." His voice was assuring, a soft sound playing in my ears.

He broke away again, this time to lift up my shirt. My heart boomed in my chest, unsure if this was what I wanted. I lifted my arms up involuntarily, and my shirt was off. He didn't scream, he didn't groan in disgust, he was content. Josh was content with my fat, disgusting body. He saw fear in my eyes, I know it. I felt them, sending electricity up my spine. It didn't excite me. I was scared. I was so fucking scared.

He kissed my jaw and trailed down my neck to my collarbone. Always the first pair of bones I touch first thing in the morning to make sure they were as prominent as I wanted. He suckled my skin, leaving a soft bruise as a reminder that they are, in fact, there. He kept kissing downwards, to my stomach above my bellybutton. He gripped the button on my jeans and in one swift motion, unzipping and releasing the throbbing in my boxers.

"This okay?" He asked, stopping in his tracks, leaving my underwear exposed but my jeans around my ankles. I sat up slightly to look him in the eyes only to send a nod. He went back to work and I kicked off my pants. He inched his way back up to my chest after unbuttoning his own jeans, leaving us both halfway to where we wanted to be. I placed my fingertips on his bicep, tracing the colorful art that flowed along his skin. He grabbed my hand, putting it up to his face.

"Jeez you're cold," He kissed my palm. "Here." He held his hand against mine, cupping his face. He led my index inbetween his lips and I felt my hard-on get harder. My stomach jumped as his tongue swirled around my finger, sucking and nipping every inch. A small _fuck_ emitted from my mouth and he responded with a smile. His eyes grew dark, and he led my hand to his boxers. My wrist shivered against his grasp, not hard enough for him to notice, only to be formally introduced to his cock. I stroked him over fabric a couple times, my eyes grazing his torso. He was beautifully filled out, muscles toned. He seemed perfect. He was the warm summer sun in a snowy winter evening. He warmed me. He moaned, his eyes closed. He leaned back down to my bellybutton, suckling the skin beneath it. He trailed kisses along by happy trail, pushing his thumbs underneath the fabric of my boxers, teasing the elastic. The anticipation was killing me. Maybe this was his plan.

He pulled my boxers fully down to my ankles, throwing it to god-knows-where. He carefully caressed the length of my dick with his index finger which sent a shiver up my spine. He grasped my hips, pulling me closer to him so my legs were dangling off the bed. He situated himself between my legs and licked up my length. My head flew back on the bed, the air hitting the wet, surfacing goosebumps on my skin. His hand pumping me, he wrapped his lips around me and started bopping his head around. The same motion with his tongue he did on my finger and it sent me into a frenzy. My hand found his hair, gently tugging on him and fucking the back of his throat. He seemed like he'd done this before, but I didn't give a fuck. This feeling was euphoric; he looked so pretty with his mouth around my dick. I ripped him off, pulling his head back up to my lips. I tore his underwear off and my hips bucked upwards to find any contact I could. Our arms were flailing around each other every which way, trying to get as close as we could, but our atoms were so close we almost morphed into each other. I didn't care. I was indeed needy. I needed him in me, I wanted to feel him. I needed him.

"Fuck me." I whispered into him, and his dick jumped against mine.  
"Are you su-"  
"Please."

I was afraid that he was nervous, that he would break me in two. Right now, he could choke me out and I would be perfectly content.

He lifted himself off the bed, rummaging around in his nightstand. He appeared again with a condom and lube. My heart fluttered.

Josh unwrapped the condom, carefully placing it around his length. I leaned my head back. Anticipation growing within my stomach, up to my lungs and above my throat.

"You ready?" His voice was gentle among my panicked thoughts, and I nodded. He stuck a finger in my entrance. It was uncomfortable, but I needed more. I craved more. I nodded again and he stuck another, pumping me gently. I gripped the sheets as he stuck another in, and I was ready.

He removed them carefully, lubing himself up and wiping his fingers on his bedsheets. His palms ran over the entirety of my skin, it felt. He was touchy, and for the moment I didn't mind. I didn't want to sink into my skin, to fall away, to tear myself apart. Josh was gentle. The other day, he knew I was scared in my own skin. I still am, not that a moment like this would cure me completely, but he made me feel safe and safe is all I could ask for.

He lined himself up to my entrance, gripping my waist. When he was fully in, his fingernails dug deeper. It hurt so good. I felt I deserved pain. I wanted pain, and pain is what I was getting. I had a hard time adjusting t his length at first but as soon as pumped back and forth a few times, I moaned for him to go faster. He was deep inside me, and it filled me up. More than food ever could. He leaned back down as I wrapped my arms around his torso, my own fingernails digging into his skin. He moaned in my ear, sucking the skin on my neck and tears formed in my eyes. I was about to come, my senses heightened with his weight nearly all on me. I felt suffocated, almost panicked, but I didn't want this feeling to end. The lust that encompassed our bodies as one was intense. I bit my lip as I tried to not scream.

"Fuck, Tyler," he whimpered, our bodies moving together, sweat misting the top layer of skin. I chuckled. "I'm about to come..." He gripped my hair, pulling himself back up, hovering over me. His laid a hand on my chest, slamming into me as hard as he could.

"You feel so fucking good," I held onto his forearms, feeling like I would slip off the bed for the force he brought unto me. I bit my lip and shut my eyes, a tear rolling down my cheek, as he hit my sweet spot over and over again until all I felt was euphoria. A stream of white ropes jumped on my chest and I felt josh's dick twitch inside of me as he came too. I was panting, my lungs filling and then deflating. He pulled out, leaning his head over mine, a twinkle in his eye sent me to believe that I was looking at Heaven itself.

He exhaled as he jumped up to the bathroom.

I laid there, sweat dripping from my forehead as he threw a towel at me. I cleaned myself up and he threw himself next to me, pulling me close to him. My head gravitated towards his chest and all I could hear was his heart beating. He was alive, and I was happy.

I was happy to be alive today.


	13. Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pretends he's okay

The days seemed to melt together. Josh and I were content from the event that happened a few weeks ago. We hadn't done it again. I only passed out twice; the more my stomach shrunk the better I was at hiding my pain although my body was feeble. Walking took a lot out of me. I stopped being able to go for walks around my neighborhood, mainly because winter seemed to last an eternity and I was too cold even in my own house. I constantly had layers, begged my mom for an extra duvet. _But it's Spring!_ she'd say. It felt like December, but March was nearing an end and the days were growing longer. How she was oblivious, I wasn't sure. Josh never called an ambulance for me, he never forced me into any ward. I don't think he noticed how much I'd lost, how weak I was, because I was already pale and broken. I don't think he could notice my bones protruding any more even if he tried. The most important part of the new month?

I hit 110 last week. In fact, I was 106. I plateaued for a couple days, but then I started to lose rapidly. I spent most of my waking moments in bed. I've been trying to keep up with school but the less I ate, the less I had keeping me upright. I leaned on Josh more times than I'd like to get me to class. Paying attention was hard and I'm sure my classmates were growing tired of the constant noises that erupted from my stomach. I was nearing perfection. My ribs stuck out, and my collarbones could hold a pint of water in the crevice. Each day I stepped on the scale, I was half a pound to a pound lighter. Ana sat on my shoulder, congratulating me with a peck on my cheek. I barely saw my mom anymore, the confines of my bed leaving me to rot and decay. I refused to go down for dinner. I was out the door for class before my mom could force me to sit down for breakfast. I spent the rest of my time at Josh's, knowing that his parents wouldn't dare pry. He was touchier with me. It was because I was skinny. Maybe because the bones felt foreign to him, he was frightened so. I didn't mind.

I enjoyed the looks I got on campus. The need to hide escaped me, and I soaked in the glares as people realized they were looking at a walking dead person. I felt accomplished, successful. 

It was Saturday. I had no motivation to sit up and do homework. When I pulled my laptop onto my lap this morning to get an assignment over with, my heart skipped a beat and thought, _maybe this is it. I'm having a cardiac arrest._ Josh warned me, he warned me of all the things I was doing to my body. I was stubborn, I didn't listen. I change the subject far too often for him to get caught up in something he know would go in one ear and right out the other. My arms were full of hair, my own hair on my head was falling out in chunks every day. I had a bald patch behind my ear which was thankfully easy to cover up with other strands. My hands were constant ice cubes. I didn't care, because Ana told me I was being successful. With every breath, my chest shook. I was nearly beautiful.

A soft knock jumped in my ears. The door opened slowly, a slight creak came along with footsteps intruding my personal sanctuary. 

"Hi Ty," It was Josh. I didn't have the energy to roll over to face him. All I could do was stare at the wall. "I brought you some celery." Glass clinked onto my nightstand and I felt the bed dip. Celery was the only thing I'd been consuming. It was no calories and had a lot of water. If I was starving, I might as well be hydrated. Celery was one of my few safe foods including but not limited to half of an apple, a couple of grapes, or a baby carrot. A gentle touch floated on my arm. He pulled me onto my back, and now I was staring at the ceiling. I turned my heard to him and smiled.

"Hi," my voice was raspy. I did little talking. I didn't have much to say that didn't include poems I wrote or how proud I was of myself. "I'm sleepin." I yawned, and he furrowed his brows. I could tell he wanted to say something. He knew I would get angry.

"Tyler..." He placed a hand on my forehead. He was warm. "It's nice outside today. Let's go for a walk." I shook my head. I knew my body would refuse.

"Just wanna go back to sleep." I was stern but soft, I was only hurting my own feelings. Josh ran his fingers down to my cheek, cupping my jaw. He landed a soft peck on my nose. "Come lay with me?" I suggested and I felt no hesitation in his movement. He climbed over me, placing himself between my skeleton and the wall. I gathered the strength to place my head on his shoulder. I succumbed to the darkness.


	14. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cause nobody knows he's alive

The numbers on the scale lit up. I hadn't anticipated anything other than a lower number than the previous day. I started stepping on twice a day. The faintness behind my eyelids grew extravagant whenever I did my daily check-in in the mirror. My face was gaunt. I had nothing left of me. I looked raised from a grave, I even scared myself. That fear didn't stay too long as Ana clutched my frame closer and longer each day. I was almost as small as her. Her tininess taunted me, her voice screeching in my head. I stopped eating completely. My net intake was under 0. My body tried clinging to whatever I ate, even the celery, and that had to go. I stopped letting Josh come over so often. I kept my bedroom door locked all day. I couldn't go to class. My GPA fell rapidly, and as the semester neared it's end, I knew I probably was too. I didn't mind that my body was rotting. It felt as if my body was catacomb for flies and worms. At least I felt like a martyr in my own head, this fantasy I had dreamt up kept me sane from staring at my four walls 24 hours a day.

It read 97. I broke 100 overnight. Tears swelled behind my eyelids and I broke down. I was beyond underweight. Don't worry, these were happy tears. I forced myself into this. I had control. The control I had longed for for over a year. Ana was so proud of me. I was proud of me.

I stumbled back to my bed, practically crawling on my hands and knees. If this is what it meant to be perfect, then so be it.

Not to mention the hallucinations. They crept up on me late at night, early in the morning, and during family dinner times. I scared myself more than any demon could try to. My mom often came to knock on my door, but I stayed silent and would text her a few minutes later that I'm at Josh's studying. I felt like I was living on my own, but without the responsibility of actually having to live alone. Although I truly was alone most days, Ana kept me company in the dead of night. Josh was pleading to come over. I couldn't let him. He hadn't seen me since I was 106. I saw the change in myself, I saw the bones. I didn't see fat anymore. The dysphoria was gone, and being skin and bones had helped cure that part of my brain. I loved my new body. I had 7 more pounds. I could do it. I've come this far, no stopping now.

***

Being awake was getting harder. I was in pain, agony striking my chest any time I moved. I kept my window unlocked just for Josh so he could climb through and be with me. My door was a distant memory these days. I was far past gone. He couldn't help me now. I knew I was dying. I knew I was a lost cause. He didn't know it, but I planned my funeral already which I kept in a small journal on my desk in plain view. I had the music picked out, the kind of casket I wanted unless I changed my mind later that I'd prefer cremation. I made amends with my demons. I confessed my sins to God and started praying every night. Mostly to take me out and finish this waste of a life. I was down low on his list of people he wanted to save. Then again, if God were real, I'd be able to walk and run and stand and kiss Josh and turn these lyrics on my pages into songs. Being so weak, my last weigh in was when I was 95 pounds. I calculated my BMI to be a terrifying 13.6. I was horribly underweight. Even if Josh had carried me to a hospital, to an eating disorder wing, the doctors wouldn't be able to save me. anything under a 13.0 BMI would lead to imminent death. My organs would fail completely. I had made peace with my mortality. I wasn't afraid anymore.

Josh was laying next to me. I used my might to stand up, only to fail and slam back into my bed. My bones were fragile. Josh had to pick me up.

"Bathroom." I croaked out. I forced my body to work with me this time instead of against me. My feet seemed to float above the scale. I felt as if I were floating. Light as a feather.

89.

Josh gasped. I stepped off to turn and look at myself in the mirror. I smiled, my grin bleak behind dead eyes. He was stood behind me, hand over mouth. Tears were welling behind his face.  
"Tyler," He couldn't hold it in. He hunched over, head in hands and sobbing uncontrollably. "Tyler." Was all he could choke out. The light outside my window was opposite my room. It felt dark. A negative presence was looming.  
"I should've helped you sooner. I'm a fucking idiot. I'm so fucking sorry. Tyler..." He gripped my wrists in his hands behind me, his forehead resting on the back on my legs. I could feel tears wetting my skin. I grazed my collarbones with bony fingertips. I could feel myself going. "I'm taking you to the hospital right fucking now." He grabbed my shoulders but I just fell back into him. I didn't have the energy to stand. I'd used up my remaining source to weigh myself for the last time and see the damage Ana had done.

All I felt was static. The lights in my bathroom shone brighter than the sun up close. I could feel Josh carrying me, my lifeless body weightless in his arms as he screamed at my mom to help me. I heard everything. Was I going unconscious? My heart hurt. The pain in my chest made it easy to want to go quicker. _We need to go!_ Josh. _Hurry to the car!_ Mom. _What's wrong with Tyler?_ Maddie. Watch your sister! Mom again. I felt free. I felt beautiful. I felt light, I felt home, I felt euphoric. My senses became comforting; peaceful, almost. The pain in my chest no longer ached. I was being carried again. I wanted to open my eyes and see Josh. I wanted to touch his face, hold him, tell him I will be okay. And I will be. The pain I caused him was far worse for me. I wasn't able to be saved. I was hooked to IV's. My heart monitor was low, blood pressure even lower. My death was imminent.

I could see myself. I was glowing, laying in this hospital bed with a gown made for a five-year-old. I looked peaceful. My face though, was scary. My cheekbones stuck out like knives, my collarbones even more so. The heart monitor went silent. The doctors tried defibrillation. The cardiac arrest is what took me. My body said _no more._

Let me rest. I've fought too hard for too long. 

Just let me rest.

I'm okay.

I'm finally pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :-) Stay safe. I'll miss writing this, although I did trigger myself whilst doing so but I never wanted to stop. I'll definitely write more, seeing as I pumped out like 3 chapters a day since I started editing the rest of the story. I appreciate the kudos and if you have any recommendations or requests, let me know. Comments are always welcome. <3


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